


Ode to Free Food

by ronans



Series: Prompts [16]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: ...Multiple Marriage Proposals, AU, Alternate Universe, Based on a Tumblr Post, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-10 20:01:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3301745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronans/pseuds/ronans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><strong>Prompt:</strong> 'imagine your otp proposing repeatedly at different restaurants to get free food and when the real proposal comes and they get free ice cream or something person a is like ‘omg that was a good one the whole speech was a nice touch where did you get this ring it looks so realistic omg’ and person b is just like ‘r u fucking kidding me’'. Feel free to choose yourself which is which - <a href="http://southsidemilkovich.tumblr.com/post/110274041264/hey-i-saw-that-youre-taking-gallavich-prompts">Anon</a><br/><a href="http://southsidemilkovich.tumblr.com/post/110198893704/thecakelessachiever-deliverusfromsburb-imagine">Based on this Tumblr post</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Ode to Free Food

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I'm giving a thank you to whereareyoucas for her muted encouragement :)))))  
> And also to FLazy2 for the hot dog stand haha

  **Take 1 - January**

‘Well _this_ is classy as fuck,’ Mickey mumbles under his breath as they walk up to the entrance of the McDonald’s closest to their apartment. Ian’s grinning and pulling his dark green beanie off his head.

‘What? I felt like a Big Mac.’

‘You don’t _look_ like a Big Mac,’ Mickey shoots back. Ian just rolls his eyes and holds the door open for his boyfriend.

‘When are we going to adopt a child so your fucking terrible jokes can officially become dad jokes?’ Mickey lifts his middle finger up at Ian and grudgingly walks past him into the warmth of the restaurant. Once they’ve joined the queue, Ian bends to the side a little in order to murmur in Mickey’s ear. ‘Do you have the Haribo?’

Mickey rolls his eyes and turns his head towards Ian. ‘Yes, I have the fucking Haribo.’

Ian quickly leans in and presses an unexpected kiss to Mickey’s lips before he can do anything about it, but then instantly ruins whatever romance he’d created by saying, ‘Mick, hurry up, my stomach is eating itself.’

‘It always is,’ Mickey says, digging his hand into his pocket, pulling out a half eaten packet of sweets and rummaging around for one of the gummy rings. He picks out an orange and red one but Ian slaps at his hand, making him drop it back into the bag. Mickey huffs and glares at Ian. ‘What now?’

Ian smiles and plucks out a different coloured one. ‘Orange? Really?’

‘Oh my- Fuck, are you seriously whining about what colour the gummy ring is?’

Ian keeps on grinning and offers the red gummy ring with the clear top to Mickey who just snatches it with a sigh. ‘Love you.’

‘Yeah, okay,’ Mickey grumbles back, smiling at Ian’s laughter. They’re almost at the front of the queue now and Mickey can actually hear Ian’s stomach rumbling over the noise of the other diners which is quite something. And if he knows his boyfriend, he knows he’s about to start complaining again.

‘ _Micke_ -‘

‘We’re nearly at the front of the queue, fucking hell, will you shut your trap for five seconds?’ Mickey chuckles, shoving Ian in the side.

‘Who’s next?’

Mickey presses his lips together trying to hide his smile before stepping towards the counter, dragging Ian with him by the hand. ‘Yeah, hi, two Big Mac meals with… Coke, fuck it, yeah.’

The woman wrinkles her nose at his language before putting on a polite smile and entering the order into the till. ‘Will that be all?’

‘Uh, no, actually…’ Mickey replies, side-eyeing Ian who’s looking suitably oblivious.

‘What else can I get you?’

Mickey turns on his heel to face Ian and then sinks down onto one knee. He almost fucking loses it at Ian’s faux-surprised tone and the way he draws a hand up to his mouth.

‘Mickey? What’re you doing?’

‘Ian, we’ve been together for, like… I dunno, a while.’

He hears the sharp intake of breath of the woman who’d been serving them, and also someone quietly saying ‘what the fuck’ somewhere at the back of the restaurant, which, again, nearly makes him break his cool.

‘Yup.’

‘And, I love you.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah… So, will you fuckin’ marry me?’

‘Yes!’

And then the fucking waterworks come on because Ian’s always been good at crying on cue, and Mickey’s pretty sure the fact that Ian’s crying reassures everyone that, although they’re literally using candy for a ring and the proposal is occurring in a fucking McDonald's at 6 in the evening on a Thursday, _this is not a joke_.

As Mickey nearly rips the damn sweet as he forces it onto Ian’s ring finger, the whole fucking restaurant breaks out into applause. Ian pulls Mickey up from the floor and into a hug and Mickey’s kind of glad, because at least he can hide his face in Ian’s chest and finally let out the laughter he’s had bottled up.

Once the commotion’s died down, the woman at the counter, wearing a gleeful expression, starts gushing. ‘Oh my gosh, that was adorable.’ All that’s going through Mickey’s head is _no it wasn’t_. He’s pretty sure he’s got a gross cold fry stuck to his jeans from where he’d knelt down.

‘He has his moments,’ Ian responds, looking down lovingly at Mickey.

‘You’re milking it,’ Mickey says under his breath.

‘Shut up,’ Ian says just as quietly.

The woman starts talking in a hushed whisper with this guy who looks like the restaurant manager and then turns back to them. ‘On behalf of McDonald’s, I’d like to offer you your meals for free this evening.’

Fucking finally. ‘Oh really?’

‘Mhm, for the happy couple.’ She beams as she hands them a large brown paper bag containing their food over the counter. With little finesse, Mickey takes it from her and immediately shoves it into Ian’s arms, and then hastily grabs their drinks.

‘Thanks.’ He nods at her and leads Ian away from the counter without saying anything else because his job’s done.

A few cheers follow them out as they leave the building, Ian already diving his newly ring adorned hand into the paper bag.

‘You could’a at least got me a Sprite. I fucking hate Coke.’

‘That’s for rejecting the first gummy ring, asshole.’

 

** Take 2 – February **

‘Oooo! Hot dogs!’

‘I’ve not got any cash on me, and like fuck am I robbing a hot dog stand in broad daylight.’ Ian lifts an eyebrow and stares down at Mickey with this look that clues Mickey in to what Ian’s thinking. ‘Fuck, really?’

‘Uh huh, I’m _that_ hungry.’

‘It’s fuckin’ Valentine’s Day tomorrow, can you not just wait one more day? ‘Least then it’ll make the whole thing look more realistic.’

‘But I’m hungry now… And the hot dog stand’s right there.’

Mickey sighs and threads his fingers through Ian’s. ‘Fucking _fine_. You’re such a kid.’

Ian scrunches his nose up. ‘You’re about to propose to a kid?’

‘If you make me throw up in my mouth, we’re definitely not gettin’ hot dogs.’

‘Okay, okay.’

As they get closer to the stall, a series of loud noises reach their ears.

‘Thrash metal blasting out of a shitty boom box as the soundtrack to you proposing to me is all I’ve ever wanted,’ Ian laughs, nodding towards the source of the noise.

Mickey sighs and shakes his head. ‘What am I gonna use for a ring?’

‘Be creative,’ Ian says, pressing a kiss to the corner of Mickey’s mouth and then sauntering off towards the hot dog stand. Mickey can feel a light blush creeping up his neck, but chooses to ignore it in favour of following after Ian, roughly yanking the rubber band he always has around his wrist off, catching the tail end of his food order. ‘…With like… a load of mustard and ketchup.’

The hot dog guy looks bored out of his mind as he practically empties half a bottle of mustard onto Ian’s hot dog.

‘Hey, Ian? Can I ask you something?’

‘You mean _may_ you ask me something.’

Mickey presses his mouth together and sends Ian a death glare. ‘You’re such a fuckin’ dick,’ he utters quietly before plastering on a grin and then lowering himself to kneel on the ground. ‘You like hot dogs, we’re at a hot dog stand, timing seemed appropriate, will you marry me?’ Mickey says, most definitely not dressing it up with a heartfelt speech but Ian looks as if he just witnessed the most amazing collection of words known to man.

‘Oh my god, yeah, yeah of course I’ll marry you,’ Ian replies, this time joining Mickey on the filthy pavement for a hug. Discreetly, Mickey glances at the hot dog salesman to gauge his reaction. He looks less than elated at the display of affection, but gruffly starts nodding as they stand up, giving them a weak round of applause.

‘Yeah, alright, alright, have your hot dogs on the house.’

‘Wow, thank you, this day just keeps getting better and better, right, Mick?’ Ian smiles as he accepts the food off the guy manning the stall and then starts to walk away.

As soon as they’re out of earshot, or rather anything they say would be swallowed by the glaring noise emitted from the boombox, Mickey hisses, ‘Free hot dogs top a proposal?’

Ian grins as he bites into his food. From the look on his face, everything tastes better when it’s free.

 

** Take 3 - March **

Because apparently it’s nice to do things with your family every now and then, Ian had asked Mandy and her boyfriend to come along to actually witness the process of proposing and getting free food.

‘You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many decorative curtains in my life,’ Mandy says, running her hand down some of the fabric in the doorway. Mickey grimaces and nods his head.

‘Yeah, and I can taste the fuckin’ perfume in the back of my throat.’

‘That’s not the only thing you could taste in the back of your throat. Ay,’ Ian says, elbowing Mickey’s side to the chorus of Mandy’s gagging.

‘Fucking watch it,’ Mickey warns, fighting back a smile because Ian genuinely looks proud of himself. He turns to Mandy and then to the empty spot beside her. ‘When the fuck’s your date gettin’ here?’

She shrugs and pinches at the fabric of her skin-tight dark blue dress where it had rucked up a little. ‘Dunno. Said he’d be here but he’s the most unreliable asshole I’ve ever met.’

‘Sounds promising,’ Mickey says, rolling his eyes. Because he’s someone who actually owns a watch now, he pulls back the sleeve of his suit jacket and checks the time. ‘Look, we haven’t got all fuckin’ day. Doesn’t look like he’s coming.’

Mandy sighs and hoists her purse strap back onto her shoulder. ‘Great. I got all dressed up just to third wheel my brother and my best friend’s fake proposal.’

‘There’re plenty of hot guys here,’ Ian suggests, grinning in the face of Mickey’s warning look.

‘Yeah… Or maybe I can take a chick home for once,’ Mandy says, entirely unbothered about being stood up.

Ian pats her on the shoulder. ‘That’s the spirit. Now where the hell’s our table?’

Once they’re seated by a less than happy waiter due to their lack of a fourth person, Mickey excuses himself to go and speak to the chef.

‘Yo, could you put this in the chocolate cake order for table eight?’ He holds out the scuffed ring he’d picked up from a ridiculously cheap pawn shop for the chef to take. He looks a little pissed off at the interruption of his dinner service, but he seems more annoyed at the dude who led Mickey back into the kitchen.

‘Sure,’ the chef replies and then basically tells Mickey to fuck off.

‘O-kay,’ Mickey hums before thanking the waiter and making his way back to his table.

‘So?’ Ian asks.

‘He’s puttin’ it in the chocolate cake so don’t fuckin’ choke on the damn thing when it comes.’

Ian pouts and scans his eyes down the chock full menu. ‘But what if I wanted to order the sorbet?’

Mickey stares at Ian, menu half raised off the table. ‘Well too fucking bad, you’re getting the chocolate cake, and you’re getting it for free.’

‘Wow, so adorable,’ Mandy says in a monotone voice. ‘Mickey, you controlling dick, what if he feels that a slice of chocolate cake will be too _filling_ after his fillet steak?’

Ian grins smugly from over the top of his menu along with Mandy before Mickey just scoffs and hides behind his own. ‘I fucking hate eating with both of you.’

*

‘So I’ll have the sorbet-‘

‘Ian, don’t fuck around, I swear to-‘

Ian rolls his eyes and looks up politely at the new waitress. ‘ _Sorry_ , I’ve changed my mind, I’ll have the chocolate cake.’

‘Yeah, same here, whatever,’ Mickey mutters, and then Mandy deliberately orders the raspberry sorbet _just_ to piss him off.

‘Okay! Great, I’ll be back with your desserts shortly; can I get you any drink refills?’

‘Bottle of vod-‘

‘Don’t push it,’ Mickey warns, glaring at his smirking sister. She raises her hands in surrender and then smiles sweetly up at the waitress.

‘We’re good here, thanks.’ The waitress stumbles away blushing and Mickey kind of hates his sister sometimes. Mandy claps her hands together and then slings an arm around Ian’s shoulders. ‘You ready to have an honest woman made outta you, Ian?’

Ian rolls his eyes and slips his arm to rest around Mandy’s waist. ‘I guess I am, Mands.’

‘Christ, you two are gross, quit it with the PDA, _I’m_ supposed to be the one proposing.’

Mandy purses her lips into an O shape and draws back from Ian. ‘Woah, is that jealousy? You’re worried your sister’s going to steal your insanely gay boyfriend away from you on the night you propose?’

‘Shut the fuck up, the waitress is comin’ and this is supposed to be a fuckin’ surprise,’ Mickey finishes muttering just as the waitress steps up to the table, arms laden with three fancy as fuck plates of desserts.

‘Here you go! Enjoy!’ She leaves weirdly fast, probably due to the smoulder Mandy’s sending her way.

‘ _Fuck_ , this is the best chocolate cake I’ve ever had,’ Ian groans after taking a bite. Mickey chuckles at the reaction.

‘What, better than the one I made you for your birthday last year?’

Mandy splutters over her sorbet and then covers her mouth with the back of her hand. ‘Mickey baking? No way. Why the fuck didn’t you share this with me before?!’

‘He’s evolved from pizza bagels since you guys lived together. He even made me cupcakes a few months ago. _Unprovoked_.’

‘Oh my fucking-‘

‘ _Hey_ , would you fuckin’ look at what you’re just about to scoop up with your fork, Ian!’ Mickey hastily interrupts, not wanting to delve any further into his baking escapades with his sister. That shit was supposed to be fucking private.

Ian flicks his eyes down to his plate and breaks out into a grin. ‘What’s that, Mickey?’

Mickey leans over the circular table and plucks the ring out from the mess of chocolate cake and quickly wipes it clean with the tablecloth.

‘Ian, I wanted to ask you something,’ he says after clearing his throat. Upon noticing him get out of his seat and kneel down for what feels to be the millionth time, several customers have turned their heads in the Gallagher-Milkovich table’s direction.

Ian’s gasp throws him off kilter a little because, shit, Ian looks really good in the warm lighting of the restaurant and suddenly Mickey’s blood’s thumping in his ears and he has no fucking idea why. This is supposed to be a routine thing, something they do so they don’t have to pay for food every now and then. Fuck. And just as fast as the weird feeling appeared, it leaves, and Mickey finds himself struggling not to let out a chuckle again, just like every other time he’s done this.

‘From the first moment I looked into your eyes-‘

‘My eyes?’ Ian echoes with wonder. Mickey is so fucking close to just breaking down laughing now, it’s ridiculous.

‘Mhm, yep, your eyes. The first time was… just _wow_ , and then the _first time_.’ Mickey shoots him a meaningful look to which Ian replies with a light shove to Mickey’s shoulder, playing the perfectly bashful soon-to-be fiancé. ‘It was amazing… ‘n shit.’

‘’N shit?’

Mickey just starts nodding, desperately trying to keep from laughing. ‘Yep. And, uh, I love you, Ian, and it’d be really great if you married me.’

‘Of course, Mickey,’ Ian replies softly, and this time his voice is so genuine Mickey can almost imagine he just proposed for real. Oh shit.

Mandy and the whole rest of the restaurant start breaking out into applause and Ian kisses him like it’s real and, fuck, Mickey wants this, he actually wants this.

‘Congratulations!’ a waiter who’d been hovering by their table for the whole ordeal announces, brandishing a pretty cheap looking bottle of champagne. ‘For the simply adorable couple, we would like to offer a free bottle of champagne with your meal!’

‘Great, thanks,’ Mickey says tightly, accepting the bottle and watching as the grinning waiter practically skips off. ‘For fuck’s sake,’ Mickey growls as soon as the waiter’s left. Mandy and Ian just look to Mickey like _he’s_ the one who’s going to be settling the bill they thought they weren’t going to have to pay for in the first place. ‘Fuck no, we’re all paying for the shit we ordered.’

‘Can I get the champagne? I’m apparently alone and have no epic fake proposals to flaunt at fancy restaurants,’ Mandy says, idly twirling her dark hair between her fingers.

‘Done. Let’s go home,’ Ian suggests, placing his hand on Mickey’s thigh. And so they do, but something’s definitely shifted in Mickey’s mind.

 

** Take 4 - April **

When Mickey knows Ian’s definitely out for the night, he brushes a strand of Ian’s hair out of his face and then lets his hand rest against his cheek. He pulls at his bottom lip with his teeth as he stares at his sleeping boyfriend and then, without looking, reaches behind him to the bedside table where he’d left his pack of cigarettes.

With one hand, he carefully unfolds the slip of paper he’d hidden inside the packet. The speech is nowhere near finished, but he’s getting somewhere.

‘Ian… Gallagher…’ he whispers under his breath, eyes on Ian as he breathes steadily in his sleep.

He bites at the inside of his cheek and then glances down at the piece of paper in his hand. Slowly, he strokes his way down from Ian’s face until he reaches Ian’s hand on the pillow, gradually linking their fingers together. He lets out a soft sigh and stares at how their hands fit together pretty much perfectly. He feels like he can be more gentle in moments like these, more… free.

‘Ian Gallagher,’ Mickey repeats. ‘I… I’ve loved you for a long time. Swear to fuck I didn’t mean for it to happen.’ He’s not even saying the words anymore, he’s just mouthing them because he kind of feels too emotional and nervous to properly get them out. When he does this for real he knows he’s going to be completely fucked up. ‘You make everything easier. And fuck knows where I’d be if you hadn’t been there for me.’

Ian’s nose twitches but his eyelids aren’t flickering so Mickey thinks he’s still safe to talk.

‘If I think about the future, I just think _fuck it_ , I, uh, I don’t-‘

‘Mmpfh,’ Ian sighs. Mickey’s sure he’s still unconscious, but doesn’t want to chance anything. He quickly folds the paper up and stuffs it back into his cigarette packet. Once he’s sure it’s safely hidden again, he slides closer to Ian and buries his hand back into Ian’s hair, staring at his boyfriend’s peaceful face and closed eyelids until he feels like he can sleep too.

 

** Take 5 – April (cont.) **

‘Mickey?!’

He picks up his pillow and slams it over his head, letting out a long groan; he’d just been on the fucking _cusp_ of falling back  asleep. He feels the bed dip and then the mattress bounces as Ian throws himself on it next to Mickey, tugging at the pillow. Mickey’s making damn fucking sure Ian’s not fully stealing it from him.

‘Mick, don’t be grumpy.’

‘Fuck _off_. You’re the asshole who woke me up at fucking _seven in the morning_ on a fucking _Sunday_ so you could go for a fucking _Spring jog_.’

He doesn’t even need the aid of his sight, he just knows Ian’s grinning. ‘Hey, so I saw this really amazing new ice cream shop _while_ I was jogging…’

Mickey rips the pillow off his face, figuring that for as long as Ian’s here, he’s not going to let him sleep, so he might as well look at him. ‘And?’

Ian taps his fingers against Mickey’s bare forearm and bites his bottom lip. ‘ _And_ , it looks so amazing that I think you should take me there today.’

Mickey glares at Ian and buries his face into the mattress. ‘Ugh, that’s why you’re not letting me sleep right now? No fucking thank you.’

‘I swear to god, I’m living with an eighty year old man.’

‘Good for you. You like that kinda thing, right?’ His voice is almost completely muffled by the fabric of the mattress, but Mickey takes it that Ian heard if the slap on his arm is anything to go by.

‘Fuck you, Mickey.’

‘Leave me alone.’

Ian heaves out a sigh and starts to get up off the bed. ‘I’m gonna leave you alone while I have a shower but when I get back you better be ready to go.’ He plants a kiss between Mickey’s exposed shoulder blades and then Mickey hears him pad off to the bathroom. As soon as the water starts running, Mickey moans and rolls over, scowling at the ceiling. So there’s no chance he’s getting back to sleep now. But whatever, he signed up for this shit when he agreed to move in with Ian. And he’s _definitely_ happy he did.

Halfway through tugging on his jeans (because apparently he does everything Ian says now and actually doesn’t fucking mind it), his eyes drift to his pack of cigarettes. Not only because he’s craving one, but because he’s just had an idea. He hurries over to the doorway and peers around it. He can still hear the shower running.

He jogs over to their kitchenette and drags one of their chairs up to the kitchen counter, hopping up onto it and stretching to reach the top of the cabinet.  Wedged between the ceiling and the cabinet is a velvet box that’s now battered to hell from all the times Mickey’s had to slide it back into its narrow hiding place after looking at it and wondering how the fuck he’s going to give it to Ian. He figures Ian won’t care, though.

Mickey nearly breaks his fucking neck in his rush to get down before Ian’s done showering, which probably wouldn’t be a very good fucking idea just before he’s about to propose.

Not too long after he’s unearthed it, the box sits heavily in Mickey’s jeans pocket as he waits for Ian to finally emerge from the bathroom. When he does, he’s still towelling his hair dry.

Ian frowns when he sees Mickey. ‘You look…’

Mickey winces and looks down at the black button up he’d put on instead of his usual loose t-shirt or tank top. ‘Uh…’

Ian suddenly breaks out into a smile and walks forward to press a kiss to Mickey’s temple. ‘You look great, Mick.’

After shrugging on their coats, they leave their apartment and join hands just before they cross the street like they’re seven again and need a walking buddy to make sure they don’t get run over.

‘How fuckin’ far away is this place? I know how damn far you run when you want to,’ Mickey mutters, not really looking forward to having to wait for a long stretch of time before actually going through with asking Ian to marry him and all.

‘Not far.’ Ian’s smile tells a different story, but Mickey finds he’s willing to walk for a while just as long as Ian keeps holding his hand.

The route they take isn’t exactly scenic, but it’s nice enough and the ice cream place does actually look kinda cool. But Mickey’s not going to tell Ian what he thinks of it, obviously.

‘Nice, right?’

Mickey shrugs nonchalantly but inside he’s internally screaming because _this is the place he’s going to ask Ian to marry him, fuck_.

‘Aw, don’t be like that. Do you want one?’ Ian gestures to the extensive list of flavours in the blackboard leaning against the wall outside of the shop. Mickey quickly shakes his head because here’s no way he can stomach cold goods paired with what he’s about to do. Ian lifts his shoulders and then drops them, turning to scan down the list and playing absently with Mickey’s fingers. ‘You’ll probably end up sharing mine, anyway. I know what you like.’

Mickey snorts and shakes his head again, staring at Ian’s profile as he chooses his ice cream. Yeah, there’s no way he’s not going through with this today.

‘Think I’m gonna get mint chocolate chip with a scoop of rocky road for you.’

‘How fuckin’ generous of you.’

‘Hey, you said you didn’t want _anything_ , so technically I _am_ being generous. You’re still buying though, right?’ Ian smiles down at Mickey and pulls him in through the front door of the shop.

‘Yeah, I’m… still buyin’.’ Mickey coughs to cover up his weird tone and trails behind Ian. He hears a gruff disapproving noise and spots a ridiculously old dude sat in the corner of the shop eyeing where Ian and Mickey’s hands are still linked. It’s that kind of reaction that continues to this day to make sweat start to bead on Mickey’s forehead and his lip start to shake but like fuck is he going to let one crotchety geriatric ruin today.

As Ian orders, Mickey fumbles around in his pocket until his fingertips settle on the ring. He has half a mind to just glance over the speech that’s still hidden in his pack of smokes but he figures he hasn’t got much time; Ian’s already ordering. Again, he coughs, steeling himself.

‘Uh, Ian?’ he shakily calls as soon as Ian’s finished speaking to the woman at the register. Ian swivels around and smiles, eyes flitting over Mickey’s face like they’re searching for something.

‘Yeah?’

Mickey wants to believe he’s just doing what he’s done every other fucking time, but the way he sinks down onto one knee this time feels… well, it feels a lot more fucking important. Ian tilts his head to the side before grinning and re-pocketing the money Mickey’d given him to pay for the ice cream.

‘Ian… I’ve loved you for a really fucking long time. Didn’t plan on it, but that’s what happened… and, uh… I’m insanely glad it did.’ He sniffs just to try and keep his nerve. He can feel his palms start to sweat around the ring box and that’s just fan-fucking-tastic, Ian’s just gonna love that. ‘I don’t know what the fuck my life would be without you in it. These past three years have been amazing and I don’t want to… grow old, or whatever, with anyone else.’ He winces because he sounds awkward and cheesy, but fuck is he out of his comfort zone. He doesn’t usually do legitimate public displays like this unless it’s resulting in a free burger, or something along those lines.

‘Me neither, Mickey.’ Jesus, Ian sounds choked up and it’s starting to really fuck with Mickey’s ability to see this thing through to the end, but he manages, just about, with a few alterations to his script.

‘So, I guess what I’m askin’ is… Will you marry me?’

Ian’s face splits into a grin and he starts nodding frantically. ‘Yes. Yeah, I will, obviously.’

The sheer fucking relief that floods through him after hearing that. It had been pretty clear Ian wouldn’t have said no, but still. It’s damn nerve-wracking. Another blessing is that the ring Mickey chose fits perfectly on Ian’s finger.

The applause they receive as they start kissing is pretty meagre because the shop’s so small but it’s something. And this time Mickey hadn’t done it for the free food so he’s pretty content that this whole thing’s played out as it has.

‘Come and get your ice cream,’ the woman at the counter sings, and her cheeks are probably hurting she’s smiling so widely. When Ian reaches into his pocket like he’s going to get his wallet, the woman waves him off. ‘Don’t be silly. Enjoy your free cone!’

‘Thank you so much,’ Ian says, absolutely fucking beaming while Mickey just kind of stands off to the side, awestruck. He actually fucking did it, he’s _actually_ engaged to Ian Gallagher.

‘Well that wasn’t planned, but it was our best one yet,’ Ian says as soon as they exit the ice cream shop, holding his arm out in front of him and flexing the fingers on his left hand.

Mickey frowns and looks over at Ian. ‘What?’

‘This ring genuinely looks real, kinda gorgeous, actually… And the _speech_. Real tear-jerker, I’m pretty sure even that homophobic old dude hunched in the corner was crying. I can’t believe _you_ nearly started crying that time. It was a nice touch.’

Mickey looks at Ian incredulously. Ian who’s calmly licking at his ice cream cone, Ian who looks _completely like that whole Mickey-spilling-his-guts speech just went into getting free ice cream._

‘ _Ian_ , are you fucking kidding me?!’

Ian looks up at Mickey and cocks his head, thoroughly confused. ‘Huh?’

‘I just fuckin’- _Jesus Christ_ , okay, this was a bad idea, let’s just, uh… Let’s just go home,’ Mickey rushes out, turning away from Ian before he’d even finished talking, cheeks blazing red.

Ian reaches out and grabs Mickey’s arm, stopping him before he can walk off. ‘What? I’m confused, what is it?’

Mickey sinks his teeth into his bottom lip and groans, closing his eyes and wanting to disappear into the ground. ‘I just proposed.’

Ian raises his eyebrows. ‘Uh, yeah. And we got free ice cream for it.’ After Mickey just stares at Ian without saying anything, his face lights up with realisation. ‘Oh! Right, shit, sorry. Thank you and I love you.’

‘ _Thank you_? Seriously?’

‘Thank you… for proposing and getting us the ice cream…’

‘Oh my fucking god, when you’re dumb, you’re _dumb_. Fuck, can we just go home?’

‘Wait… Shit… Shit, _no_! No, shit!’ Ian starts almost yelling, nearly dropping his ice cream. _There we go_. ‘Fuck, no, wait, did I just say _thank you_ after you proposed? Like, for real proposed? Shit.’

Mickey covers his face with his hands and peeks out through his fingers to see if they’re attracting any attention. Thank god for self-absorbed members of the public, no one appears to have noticed anything awry.

‘ _Shit_.’

‘Can you please stop making this into a big fucking deal?!’

‘ _Mickey, you fucking proposed_!’

‘Well, fuck, it’s not like I don’t do this every fucking month for free shit.’

Ian’s biting his knuckles and Mickey’s definitely sure he’s dropped his ice cream now. ‘Thif if differenf!’ he says, his teeth still firmly lodged in his skin. Gently, Mickey wraps his hands around Ian’s and pulls them away from his mouth.

‘You’re gonna hurt yourself.’

Ian lets out a low groan and lets himself fall forward until his head’s pressed against Mickey’s shoulder.

'I didn't think you'd ever actually do it... You know, like  _actually_ -'

'Yeah, I know.'

‘...You’ve got really good taste in engagement rings,’ he mumbles.

Mickey lets out a laugh and cards his fingers through Ian’s windswept hair. They’re quiet for a moment before Mickey’s attention is once again drawn to the fact that Ian’s ice cream is melting pathetically on the pavement.

‘You want another ice cream? I’ll actually pay for it this time.’

Ian grins and nods, pulling away from Mickey. He extends his hand out for Mickey to take, wiggling his fingers. The gold band on one particular finger glints in the sun and, for once, it’s not just there because Ian’s appetite asked it to be.

**Author's Note:**

> [I still take prompts :)](http://southsidemilkovich.tumblr.com)


End file.
